


Ink And Wildflowers

by viulet



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Auswald - Freeform, F/F, indenialaboutfacetheraven, ishipthissohardfightme, twelfthdoctorthirdwheeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viulet/pseuds/viulet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor decides it's a good idea to take Clara to see Jane Austen. What he doesn't know is how excited the romance novel author will be to see her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ink And Wildflowers

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS NOT MINE. This was written by angiescarter on tumblr and I'm publishing it so it will be easier to find. Enjoy :)

There was something picturesque about the sitting room; the windows were open and warm sunshine spilled in, bathing everything in a golden glow.  
Atop of the breakfast table was a feast of a tea party set up by the young servant who’d let them into Miss Austen’s home.   
The plates were piled high with finger sandwiches and little pastries that normally would have made Clara’s sweet tooth ache with longing.  
Unfortunately, normal seemed to have been left behind with her pupils in 2015.   
Today, on July 10th, 1811, she was going to meet Jane Austen.   
Yes. The Jane Austen. How could she even think of eating?  
She pinched her thigh again. Blinked. Yep. Still real.   
Her knees knocked against each other under the breakfast table, the sound muffled by the cloth of her dress. A little hum of excitement escaped her throat.  
The Doctor groaned, his head tilting forward into his hands, “I can hear your heart beating against your chest cavity. It’s embarrassing.“   
Clara pinked, remembering to inhale and finding herself much relieved at the sudden influx of oxygen.   
"Sorry."   
"Be cool Clara, Jane is a friend. One of my cooler friends, so don’t embarrass me."   
"I said I was sorry! But- but this is Jane Austen! Writer of some of the most enduring romance novels in the history of the universe. And since when are you cool enough to be friends with Jane Austen?"   
He mimicked her in a high-pitched voice and she brought her middle finger and thumb together to flick him hard on the side of the head.   
Ignoring his glare, she tried to remember the words she had rehearsed in the TARDIS.   
"Hello my name is Clara Oswald, it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Austen I’m a big fan of your works even if you’ve yet to publish many of them-"   
"Why do women take so bloody long to get dressed,” the Doctor growled, slumping in his seat and inspecting a pink macaron.   
Clara opened her mouth to fire something back but was interrupted by the soft voice of another woman.   
“Because otherwise we’d all look like you, Doctor."   
Clara stood without quite knowing why, much to the chagrin of her alien companion.   
Jane however, looked amused.  
"And you are?"   
"ClaraOswaldhelloJaneAusten."   
"Lovely name, Clara Oswald."   
Jane stepped forward with a small curtesy.   
Clara’s idol wore a simple forest green dress that gathered below her breasts and fell gently to the ground.   
A warm hand reached out to Clara and she grasped it.   
"It’s a pleasure,” Clara managed.   
Jane smiled and the sides of her eyes crinkled. Clara’s cheeks warmed with happiness.   
"Jane,“ the Doctor said, placing himself strategically between them, "You called?”  
"Called,“ Clara asked.   
"Yes,” Jane said, “Called."   
From the folds of her dress, the writer procured a blue mobile phone.   
"Right,” Clara said, “Jane Austen called you. Not surprised. What about?"   
"Are you two married?” Jane asked curiously.   
“No!” they cried.   
“I look younger than she does,” the Doctor said.   
“He’s twelve years old at best,” Clara countered.   
Jane laughed, her eyes never quite leaving Clara.  
“Right then. On to business…."   
-X-  
"Aliens in Chawton?"   
The Doctor peered at Jane over his new pair of sunglasses, his hands coming together at Clara’s question.   
He pursed his lips in thought, "Jane seems to think so, but why in Chawton? And where? And for God’s sake woman control your heart’s ventricular contractions."   
Clara glanced at Jane but the author seemed not to have noticed.   
"I know what I saw Doctor. One minute Rosetta and George were there, happy as can be, and the next I turned around, they were gone in a flash of light, and a nasty burn had appeared on my back. That’s not to mention that three other couples have disappeared in the last fortnight, and one man was found burned alive in the home of his newlywed daughter. It’s most mysterious. And most definitely not like Chawton."   
"Burn?” Clara asked, her eyebrows coming together.   
Jane nodded, “It’s healing, but it still smarts. And at the most peculiar times too."   
"Show me,” the Doctor said.   
"I beg your pardon,“ Jane said.   
"Show me the burn."   
"No,” Jane repeated.   
“I need to analyze its chemical components and I can’t do it with you wearing that green monstrosity, no offense."   
Jane opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Perhaps your partner would be better suited to this task,” Jane said carefully, her stormy eyes pleading, “As a woman?"   
The Doctor glanced at Clara who nodded tersely.   
"Apologies,” he said, tossing the screwdriver to Clara.   
She blinked, and caught it with both hands.   
“Two clicks of that button on the lower left and then hold the screwdriver a few inches over the burn until you hear a beep."   
"A beep,” Clara repeated.   
“Beeeeeeep,” he said emphatically, “Hurry. Time’s a ticking."   
Jane led the way to her bedroom and quietly closed the door behind them.  
Clara’s palms were clammy.   
"Is the burn … bad,” she asked, her stomach churning.   
"Not as ragged as it was a week ago but still rather unsightly,“ Jane replied, drawing the curtains and sitting on the bed.   
"You’d think I’d be better with blood, traveling with the Doctor,” Clara laughed, watching Jane undo the buttons to the top of her dress, “Hell I’ve seen my own blood splatter the ground so many times it’s almost lost the shock factor. Course there was that one time I got stabbed in the leg by an alien that looked like a teddy bear…."   
"Miss Oswald?"   
"Yes?"   
"I’m going to ask you to undo the bandage now. Please be careful."   
"Alright.”  
A hush fell over the two women.   
Within a few moments, the scan was over and Jane had re-fastened her dress.  
Clara’s teeth needled the inside of her cheek. It was now or never….  
"Iadoreyourwork.“   
"I’m sorry?"   
"I adore your work! Always have, since I was a little girl. Even more so when I was a teenager.”  
Eyes bright, Jane pulled her knees up onto the bed.   
“You’ve read my work?"   
Clara mirrored her movement, "All of it! Several times!"   
"You’ve read Sense and Sensibility? In the future? It exists in the future?”  
Clara giggled at the awed tone of the author’s voice, “It more than exists! Your work, all of it, beyond Sense and Sensibility, is a culture, a model for witty young women. For love…."   
Here Jane’s smile dipped. "Well love is a finicky thing,” she said, “One moment you’re full of it, so much so that your heart can hardly bear it, the next you’re hollow and you can’t believe you ever contained a drop."   
"Sounds like the voice of experience,” Clara said, her throat thick at the thought of Danny in the Cyberman suit.   
“Oh no,” Jane said, “Just the voice of observation. Although the look in your eyes says otherwise about your experiences with the matter.”  
Clara chuckled, but the sound died a sigh.   
“I doubt it’ll ever happen to me,” Jane said seriously, “Falling in love. It would be a most unhappy union."   
"And why is that?"   
"Men are difficult creatures,” Jane said, her voice measured, her breath tickling Clara’s lashes, “And my tastes often stray…."   
Clara hadn’t realized how closely they were sitting.   
She was acutely aware of the back of her hand brushing against Jane’s leg.  
The author inhaled, smiling and bringing a hand up to cup Clara’s cheek, "But I’ve no doubt a woman of your character will find her other half eventually…”  
Their foreheads were nearly touching, and Clara felt herself leaning closer.  
"Sometimes you don’t need another half,“ Clara whispered, "Sometimes a kiss is all your heart can handle."   
"I agree,” Jane whispered, closing her eyes.   
Their lips met gently, moving over each other’s with a sweetness unparalleled by any Jammy Dodger the Doctor’s old face had given her.   
Jane smelled like ink and wildflowers and Clara was kidding herself if she thought her drunken kiss with Nina under the park bridge in sixth-form was comparable to this kiss in the slightest.   
"Clara!“   
They jumped apart, Clara’s heart beating like a schoolgirl’s.  
"Really,” the Doctor said, “Couldn’t you just do the scan? Honestly there are dangerous love-hating aliens and all you people can think of is snogging. Ridiculous."   
Jane blushed but stood her ground, "I was merely thanking your partner for her assistance."   
"Thanking, yes,” the Doctor said, snatching the screwdriver out of Clara’s hand and checking the results.   
He nodded as if satisfied before and making a quick salute to Jane, grabbing Clara’s hand, and pulling her with him out of the room and through the cottage’s front door.   
"Oi!“ She cried.   
"Keep writing, Jane,” he called over his shoulder, “You’ll be fantastic.”  
"Doctor!” Jane protested, her face flushed as she struggled to keep up with them, “Is that it then? Are you simply going to leave Chawton like this?"   
"No. Of course not, that would be silly and not entertaining in the least."   
"Then why are you taking Miss Oswald and yourself away from your best source of information regarding the investigation?"   
He ground to a halt, "Because Miss Oswald can’t do her job if she’s too busy laying the charm on her favorite author."   
Clara wrestled out of his grasp, "It was a pleasure to meet you!"   
"And you!” Jane managed, her cheeks pinking.   
The Doctor ushered Clara ungraciously into the TARDIS with a shake of the head, leaving an incredulous Jane alone in the dew filled grass.   
“Want to go steal Frida Kahlo’s heart now? Sylvia Plath’s? Thor’s?” The Doctor said with a grumble, throwing up two levers and hooking his screwdriver up to some wires.   
Clara ignored him, looking out the TARDIS window as Jane winked out of existence.  
After a few moments the Doctor looked up to find her smiling.   
“What? What is it?"   
"Your friend Jane Austen…."   
"Yes what about her?”  
A pause.  
“She is a phenomenal kisser."   
And with that she walked out of the console room, her shoes the only noise in the room save for the Doctor’s loud and unmistakable shudder.


End file.
